


not in that way (except maybe in that way)

by liionne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, some mention of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8583847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: "Straight guy worries he's being homophobic to gay roommate, realises he's fallen in love with him"Or something to that effect





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally found this post [over here](http://stuckyficprompts.tumblr.com/post/145153424340/corpidicarta-is-anyone-writing-an-au-yet) and thus take no credit for it. Apologies for any mistakes in this, and if it's a little rushed - I love the idea, but as usual, I save all my writing for 1am the day before I have 9am lectures. I hope it's alright!

Bucky's looking forward to college. Or, well, he was - now he's _at_  college. Sitting on his bed, in the small-ish two-person room, waiting for his roommate to show up. He got here early, his mom and sisters helping him to unpack, set his bed and put his posters up (various band posters, movie posters, nothing too controversial or exciting), and wish him well. They'd gone to lunch together at the small cafe by the main building on campus, and then his family had gotten back into their car, and left.  
  
He'd wanted to cry, but he didn't. Or at least, not in the parking lot.  
  
But he's fine now; he's adjusting. He can hear people moving in up and down the hall, the front door wide open, but no one comes to say hello. He wonders if he should go to them, but there's so many family members milling around that he doesn't want to interrupt.

For now, he settles on his bed, and he reads a book. A textbook, admittedly, but what was he supposed to do? He had a recommended reading list to get through before classes start.

There's a bump, and a sigh, and Bucky looks up from Introduction to Chemical Engineering book, sitting up a second later.  
In the doorway there's a kid - no, no, he must be college age, seeing as he's at college, but he's so _small._ Thin and kind of wispy, his slightly too-long hair falling into his eyes. He's dropped a duffel bag at his feet, and over his shoulder he lugs a frankly huge canvas carrier - or maybe it just looks huge, next to him? - and he huffs once more, chest rising and falling a little more rapidly than Bucky thinks is normal.  
  
"You're James, right?" He asks, and Bucky blinks. There's something weird about him. About this guy. What is it?  
  
"Bucky." He corrects. "Everyone calls me Bucky." He adds, and he clears his throat. "Steve, right?"  
  
Steve nods, and he sets his stuff down on the one unmade bed. "I take it this one's mine?"   
  
Bucky nods again, sitting cross-legged now on his bed, his sheets smelling vaguely of home.  
  
Steve drops the canvas bag first, propping it up against the bed. Next he sets the duffel bag down on top of it, and after another short huff, he tugs his sweater off too, exposing bony arms and a too-big, faded t-shirt.  
  
Bucky watches, pretending to read his book once he's pulled it back into his lap, as Steve takes some art supplies out of his bag, along with a tonne of medication, and sets them on his bedside table. He pins a rainbow flag to the wall by his bed, tacks a photo of Judy Garland up by his bed, and then he flops down onto it, blinking a little. Bucky looks sharply back down at his book, hoping he hasn't been spotted, before looking back up slowly. He pretends to take in what sits opposite him for the first time, and then he pretends to look puzzled. Although, in all fairness, he is genuinely puzzled. "Why Judy Garland?"  
  
"She's a friend of mine." Steve says, which only serves to confuse Bucky even more, but before he can ask further Steve's up again, humming softly to himself as he begins to unpack properly.  
  
"Chemical engineering?" He asks, his back to Bucky, but Bucky assumes that the question is aimed at him. He doubts the wall is studying chemical engineering.  
  
"Uh - yeah." He says, looking at the front cover of his book and smiling softly. His eyes land on the bag opposite him, and he smiles a little. "Art?"  
  
Steve looks over his shoulder, and he smiles. It's kind of - nice?   
  
Bucky isn't sure what the word is. He doesn't really know why his brain latched onto it.   
  
"Yeah." Steve nods, and he goes back to unpacking, shoving socks into his top drawer and humming again, ever so softly.  
  
There's an orientation meeting an hour after Steve arrives, that they head down to together. A short talk from the welfare officer on campus, a few from other faculty members, and then a mass of paper handed to them before they're sent off in various directions for their respective majors.

When Bucky gets back to the room, after the welcome barbecue and the welcome ultimate frisbee and the welcome whatever the hell else, he flops face down on his bed, and he breathes out in a huff. He's asleep before he can realise that he's alone, Steve's bed still not set, but still empty.  
  
                                                                                                                                        ~*~  
  
It seems that he and Steve have very different schedules, but a lot in common otherwise. They go down for breakfast together every morning, trying to figure out which food in the canteen is good and which should be avoided, and they chat. They get to know each other. They get to know other people, too. The two guys opposite them, Tony and Bruce, both science majors; the girl and the guy in the next room over, Natasha and Clint, and the guys opposite them, Sam and Maria. They all chat, of course, all getting to know each other, but Bucky only really wants to know about Steve. He doesn't know why - he guesses that Steve's just interesting. They share a lot of history. Both from Brooklyn, both on the same little league team, both loved the same bakery right next to the park opposite the Chinese place. They're similar - except that, well. They're not.  
"Steve, you joining lgbt+ society?" Sam asks from the end of the table, once Steve and Bucky have topped animatedly discussing the cronuts from the aforementioned bakery by the park. Steve, who had just shoved a bit of bacon into his mouth, nods enthusiastically. Bucky's eyes flick from Steve to Sam, and he frowns softly.  
  
Now no, he doesn't live under a rock, and no, he isn't homophobic. Of course he isn't. He's just a little... underexposed to this kind of stuff. His mom and dad had been together his entire life until his dad died overseas, and he's always identified as straight - so have all of his friends, and his family. He's not homophobic - that would imply that he hates lgbt+ people, right? And he doesn't.  
  
But the way Sam is looking at Steve kind of makes Bucky want to punch him, and Bucky doesn't know why.  
  
So he drops his gaze to his fruit salad, and shoves a grape into his mouth.

  
~*~

  
"Where are you off to at this late hour?" Bucky asks, when he comes back from ultimate frisbee practice (it stuck - he kind of loves it, after that Welcome Week taster session) to find Steve in clothes that resemble fancy clothes, rather than his usual pair of fraying skinny jeans, too-big shirt and hoody.  
  
"I... have a date." Steve says, and he smiles a little. Over the month that they've been here, now, the leaves have changed from green to orange and Bucky has grown a lot closer to Steve - and Steve has grown a lot closer to Sam. Which is fine. Except for when they make those horrible doe eyes at each other. Everyone knows they like each other, Bucky had ranted a few times, so why don't they just get it over with already, pull their fingers out and-- "With Sam." Steve adds, and he smiles, both sounding and looking a little giddy.  
  
A stone drops in Bucky's stomach, but he doesn't know where it comes from. He nods, forcing a smile, and he sits down on his bed, kicking off his sneakers and running a hand through his already mussed up hair. "Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah." Steve says, and he looks over at Bucky, looking for a moment too long - analysing him. his reaction.  
  
Bucky just smiles wider, flashing his teeth and hoping it looks something like a real smile. "New it. Clint owes me money."  
  
Steve laughs at that, and turns away, picking up his wallet and his phone from the bed, and his housekeys after that, depositing them in various pockets of his smart black jeans. Bucky watches, though he tries to figure out why he feels a little bit sick.  
  
"What was the bet based on?" Steve asks, and Bucky is brought back to reality, clearing his throat.  
  
"That, uh - that you'd be dating Sam within a month. Bet two weeks ago, he owes me." Bucky laughs weekly.  
  
Steve snickers, and then turns around, sitting on the edge of his bed and arching his eyebrows. "We aren't dating yet. We're going on _a_ date. One. Sorry."  
  
"Hey, I have, like, three weeks yet." Bucky says, aiming for another joke. He really does feel sick. Maybe it's from frisbee? There's a knock at the door and Steve jumps to his feet, grinning at Bucky.   
  
"Don't wait up!" He teases, opening the door to Sam and closing it again behind him, leaving Bucky alone, in an empty room.

  
~*~

  
It was _a_ date, yes, but it was a date that led to more dates, and more after that. Clint does have to pay Bucky ten dollars, but is it worth it for the constant tight feeling in Bucky's chest and the roiling in his stomach?  
  
He mentions it to Natasha one day - she's a language and politics major, but she has a similar timetable to Bucky, hence why the two of them are starting to spend an awful lot of time together. They lie on the grass behind the engineering building, and Bucky remembers breakfast; Steve and Sam had been all over each other, trying to play footsy under the table (Bucky knows this because he was sat next to Steve and thus had Sam's foot running up his thigh every so often until he was forced to tuck his legs under his chair) and giggling to each other.  
  
He tells Natasha about the feeling in his stomach, the slightly nauseous feeling, the pain in his chest that he can't make sense of, that only flares up whenever he's around Steve and Sam. Clint has tried to brand them Stam, but it hasn't stuck yet.  
  
"Well, you've lived a sheltered life, Barnes." Natasha says, staring up at the sky. She isn't judging; that's what he likes about Natasha. She doesn't judge - or if she does, she's at least very quiet about it. He can respect that. "I'm just saying, y'know - it's not that you're homophobic, it's just that you're not used to it, and--"  
  
Bucky stops listening right about then. All he hears is that he's a bad friend and probably a bad person, and he starts to think about absolutely anything else.

  
~*~

  
He walks in on Sam and Steve making out and grinding on Steve's bed more than he'd liked to count. It's getting close to Christmas, it's cold out, and all he really wants to do is be able to go back to his bed to study where it's warm. Outside it's already snowing somewhat, and the library is like some kind of ice rink (with the amount he's paying for tuition, you'd think they'd be able to turn up the thermostat once in a while), and under his duvet is really the only place he wants to read about water tanks and containers from, but he _can't_.  
  
Sam and Steve are noisy when they make out.  
  
Admittedly, when it had happened the first time, they'd both had the good grace to look ashamed and apologise. The second time, less so. The third time, Steve said 'hey', and they kept going.  
  
This, though, is the sixth time. And Bucky is sick of it.  
  
"Fuck--" He hisses when he walks in, innocently enough, only to be stopped in his tracks by Steve's skinny jean-clad ass in the air as he leans over Sam to kiss him.  
  
"For the love of god, if you two are going to do that can you do it somewhere less right in front of me?" Bucky snaps, before he can even think about it, and Steve sits up sharply, his eyes narrowing, though the severeness of them is detracted from by his hair sticking up in every damn direction.  
  
"What's your problem, Bucky?" He asks, a little too harshly, and Sam sits up slowly, with a quiet 'babe', hand on Steve's side.   
  
Bucky gets the urge to throw up again, but he doesn't. He glares at Steve. "My problem is that this a shared space, and you're acting like an asshole in it. What if I brought a girl back here and made out with her constantly while you were trying to work? Or sleep? Or eat?"  
  
"Is that /really/ the problem?" Steve glowers at Bucky, and Sam sighs.  
  
Everyone, Bucky included, knows how tightly wound Steve is when it comes to his sexuality. He fights a lot - he's already gotten into, like, four fist fights since the start of the semester over lgbt+ issues, and though they all love him for his passion, his friends wish he would cool it, at least for a minute. Hence why neither Bucky nor Sam are surprised when he decides to take it straight there.  
  
"Have you got a problem with _us_ , Buck?" Steve snaps. Sam gets up, tugging Steve to his feet and all but dragging him out of the room. "If you had a problem with us - with me - you should'a just said!" He spits, and then he's gone, Sam dragging him off down the corridor and the door closing shut behind him.

  
~*~

  
Steve spends a lot of nights in Sam's room. So many, in fact, that Bucky doesn't really see him before they all break up for Christmas break. Natasha ensures him that Steve'll get over this, and that when the New Relationship Smell wears off, he'll come to his senses, but Bucky doubts it. Steve's stubborn, afterall. They all know that.  
Bucky goes to that little bakery, the one by the park, one day between christmas and new years. He's got a scarf wrapped around his neck, a thick pair of gloves and a warm winter coat on to protect him from the bitter Brooklyn cold, and that's when he encounters Steve. Steve, wearing a scarf that may as well be a tie, and no gloves at all, though at least his coat looks warm. Steve is just going into the bakery, Bucky just exiting, and they stop, facing each other.

After a moment, Bucky breaks the silence. Steve doesn't look angry, he just looks a little apprehensive. That's a good start.   
  
Bucky doesn't go in for apologies right away, though. Instead, he goes for: "Do you know how cold it is out here? You gotta be kidding me with that scarf - can you even call that a scarf?"  
  
He tugs his own from his neck and wraps his around Steve's neck, and then he tries to force his gloves onto him for good measure. Steve snorts, pushing them away.  
"I'm just about to go inside, idiot." He says, and he laughs. it's a glorious sound. The dull, achy feeling in Bucky's stomach which he had been attributing to too much food or something (even though, weirdly, it started up way before christmas dinner) clears right up. He smiles, and then he laughs in turn, and he nods. "Course. Mind if I, uh - stick around?"  
  
Steve pauses, looking up at Bucky, and he smiles. "No." He says. "I don't mind. Come on."

  
~*~

  
They sit, and they eat, and they catch up.  
  
Bucky learns that Steve and Sam aren't a thing anymore - they had been casual, to start with, and they didn't want to try and do long distance over winter break. And anyway, they had worked better as friends - even if the making out had been pretty damn great. That had made Bucky's stomach clench, but he doesn't think about it. He apologises, eventually, and Steve shakes his head.  
  
"I was an asshole." He says. "I jumped to conclusions, and i made a big deal out of it, and..." He shrugs, and Bucky nods. He understands.   
  
He walks Steve home, and insists that he keeps the scarf.  
  
"It looks better on you anyway." Bucky comments, grinning a little. Steve blushes, and it gives Bucky another odd feeling that he can't quite place as he begins to walk away.

  
~*~

  
Things are better in the spring semester, and it's only the first week. Steve and Bucky have lunch together every day, and there's no more making out in their room, which is always good. They get work done, the chill out together - they're back to being close.  
  
Maybe too close. They're both lying on Bucky's bed, his laptop lying on top of them both so they can equally see the screen, and he finds he's so aware of Steve. Of the sound of each exhale, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth where his arm brushes Bucky's. He finds his breathing matching to Steve's, and he swears to god that he can hear his heartbeat, feel it on his own skin.  
  
He wants to kiss him.  
  
The thought leaves him kind of breathless.  
  
"You okay?" Steve asks, raising one eyebrow and looking over at Bucky, who's stiffened considerably and is looking a little unhinged as he looks at the movie, not seeing it at all.  
Regardless, he nods, and forces himself to settle again. "Fine." He says, and he looks to Steve. Steve, with his soft blonde hair and his round blue eyes, his full, pink lips-- shit. Bucky smiles. "Muscle spasm." He says, and steve nods, settling back down to the movie.  
  
Bucky watches, but still sees nothing.

  
~*~

He relays this entire experience back to Natasha.  
  
"Well," She says, and she smiles in that feline way she has. "Have you ever thought you might be gay? Or at least bi?"  
  
"What?" Bucky asks, and immediately shakes his head. "No! No- I mean, not that it's a bad thing, it's not, it's just that I'm not-- me and Steve, we're just-- girls are--"  
  
Natasha watches him, a dark eyebrow arched. "If I had to imagine a fuckboy answering that question, I'd imagine this." she says, nodding to him.   
  
Bucky grimaces; that's not what he wanted to hear.   
  
Natasha doesn't end there, though. "You aren't a bad guy, Barnes, you're just a guy who hasn't really explored himself. You've been penned into one little space, y'know? Everyone around you was straight, your family, your friends, your classmates - of course everyone said it was okay to be gay but you assumed that because no one was, you weren't either, right?"  
  
Bucky nods slowly, looking past her, focusing.  
  
"Well..." Natasha says, and she shrugs. "Maybe you just need to... go for it. See what happens. Take the plunge."  
  
Bucky frowns still, but he gives a little nod. Maybe.   
  
Or maybe not.

  
~*~

This time they're watching Parks and Rec, and they're on Steve's bed. They lie just as close as last time, and Bucky is so acutely aware of Steve, his own breathing a little heavy.  
Steve is focused on the screen as Bucky turns his head to look at him, tongue running over his dry lips. He moves close to him, as if to kiss him, but when Steve turns to look at him, he bolts.  
  
"I left a book at Nat's, I'll be back, don't stop watching on my account!" He cries as he flees, a blur as he throws himself out of his room, and into Natasha's, collapsing on her floor.  
  
He groans into the carpet, and she pats his back, being quiet so that Steve can't hear her through the wall.

  
~*~

  
Though Natasha swears she kept it a secret, it's not long before the rest of their gang is kind of on his back about getting it done - about kissing Steve.

"You won't know until you try it." Maria says, and Sam nods, oddly supportive for an ex. Is he technically an ex? Bucky doesn't want to think about.  
  
"I don't like boys." Bucky snaps. he only says it openly because steve isn't here to lunge at him. The others share knowing glances, and Bucky grabs his books, shoving his bag on his shoulder. "I gotta go to class." He huffs, leaving the library with a frown etched into his face.

  
~*~

  
Sam finds him one day, between classes, which is hilarious seeing as Sam studies psychology in a building very far away from Bucky's.   
  
"He broke it off with me, Bucky." He says, standing outside of the door to Bucky's next class. "There was someone else. He didn't want to lead me on."  
  
And then Sam is leaving, and Bucky doesn't really know what to do with that information.

  
~*~

  
But then, it happens.

He comes in from his last class on a Friday. Ever since that strange meeting with Sam, in which Sam had spoken and Bucky had, well, wondered what the hell he was talking about, he's been trying to think about who the hell Steve could be into. He doesn't know the art department that well, so he decides it must be one of them. it has to be, right? Who else could it be, without Bucky knowing about it?  
  
As he dumps his things he notices that Steve is in bed, sketchpad on his lap. Steve never shows him his sketches, despite how Bucky begs and pleads to see them. But Steve has his headphones in, and he hasn't noticed Bucky's presence.  
  
So, Bucky does the only logical thing: he ambushes him.   
  
"Gotcha!" He says, a hand on the sketchbook, pulling it from Steve's grasp. Steve drops his pencil with a startled cry and a curse word, and he swats at Bucky. "Gimme that back, you ass!"  
  
"Nu uh, I wanna see it!" Bucky laughs, trying to pin Steve with his ass, holding the sketchbook above him, out of his reach. Steve just punches him in the side, so Bucky gets up, running around their relatively small room, still attempting to be careful as he turns the pages. There's some scenery, some animals, a few abstract sketches that were probably just figure practise, and then--  
  
"Wow."  
  
Bucky stops dead, standing still in the middle of the room, and Steve stops chasing him. Bucky flips through page after page, and yeah-- they're him. They're all him. Steve makes him looks so... so happy. So carefree, relaxed. He turns to look at Steve, and he blinks a little. Steve has his head in his hands, and he scrubs a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to see--"  
  
Before he can continue, Bucky's kissing him, mouth covering Steve's before it can say anything else and ruin the moment. Steve - Steve had drawn him, he was his muse, Steve liked him. He had to. Didn't he?  
  
"Yeah," Steve hums, and Bucky realises he said all that out loud. "Yeah, I do, Bucky--"  
  
They collapse back onto Bucky's bed, messily making out, hands in each other's hair, skirting over their bodies. They kiss, and they kiss, until they're forced apart, panting.  
"I thought you were straight." Steve grins, his hand cupping Bucky's cheek.  
  
Bucky laughs, kissing Steve again, head shaking just a little. "Yeah, but I'm so gay for you." He says, in the most macho voice he can muster. It has the desired effect: Steve laughs, and goes for kissing him to shut him up.

  
~*~

  
Bucky and Natasha are lying in their usual spot, Bucky's phone in his hand, which he flips absently.  
  
Natasha is the first to break the silence. "Well?"  
  
"Well," Bucky says, and he shrugs. "I guess, I don't know. I was worried about being a homophobe, but... I don't really mind Steve kissing boys. As long as I'm the boy." His phone buzzes in his hand, and he sits up, grinning as he reads the message. "Speaking of which--" he stands, just in time for Steve to collide with his middle, arms winding around him. Bucky leans down to kiss him, a grin on his lips. "Ready for lunch?" Steve asks.  
  
"Ready." Bucky nods, and he looks at Natasha. She's pushed herself up, propping herself up on her palms, and she pretends to gag. "Gross." She says. "get out of here." She adds, a smile curling her painted lips.  
  
Bucky is more than happy to do as he's told, Steve tucked under his arm for good measure.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope at least one person gets the Judy Garland reference. Any questions, comments or prompts can be sent to [ my tumblr](http://liionne.tumblr.com)


End file.
